


angels aren't, angels aren't

by angelsigil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pre-Fall, Up in Heaven yo, cute stuff, gabriel's P.O.V., hidden love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:44:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8374357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsigil/pseuds/angelsigil
Summary: gabriel experiences many things when he's up in heaven.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a new series im starting along with the other ones! i hope you guys like it!

angels aren't supposed to crave attention.

yet whenever you're around, i feel the need to show off. i feel the need to take that final bend when doing a back bend, to impress you.  
the crack and near snap of my spine might not be favorable to me, but if you send a twitch of a smile, i will accept it as a success and carry on with my next plan to get your wonderful eyes on me.

the water bends in the air due to one of my many tricks. it forms a lovely, clear arch, glistening in the sun above. you stand under it, less than amused, but you look so beautiful i can't bring myself to stop the illusion before me. a grin grew on my face, and your frown deepens. i admire your sparkling blue orbs, glistening with anger and annoyance. you tell me to cut it out, to get back to my duties in the garden. my hands move, wrists twisting, keeping the arch above you. i know i should but i can't. if i move now i'll lose this image of you in front of me and the thought of that didn't seem likely.  
everyday you hold such high amounts of beauty and charm. yet it's not everyday i get to capture it as i am doing now.  
i stare at you too long, i let my distractions take over. the water falls, drenching you in the water i had stolen from the fountain to play around. the droplets slip down your pale skin, slicking you with the sun's rays and a look i've never could have imagined on you. you look down at yourself, taking in everything that's happened. i wonder if you feel a chill.  
you look up at me, locking our gazes. your eyes a dark blue with rage. i wanted them to be dark with something else.  
i told you i messed up, a rookie mistake. that i could do much better with my hands. it was a subtle hint. a subtle clue on just how badly i desired you. you didn't notice, then again, i never expected you to. as much fiery passion you carried in every step, you were never to understand such feelings cast upon you by someone created an equal. yet i never felt more than a peasant at your holy feet, kissing the tips of the shoes that were shined over with diamond wax. even if i were to bathe you in a thousand roses with the most upmost romantic scene, you wouldn't understand. you would order me to clean up the roses, and then scold me for their misuse. a declaration of love would merely confuse you. that's why i settle for tiny tricks that i keep up my sleeves. that way you would deem it normal, and not think twice about it.  
you scream at me. i'm lost in my own thoughts, eyes locked on your strong jaw and furrowed, dark eyebrows. the corners of my lips upturn in a small, dreamy smile. you stomp forward, getting in my face. you're outraged. not only are you wet, but i am making light of your scolding.  
your cool breath fans on my face, washing me with your scent. i am so close, i can see the shards of white in your icy eyes. they swirls and mix with many patterns and designs, that i'm enchanted. your lips strain as you yell, i'm not paying attention. you're so close and the desire rises. i raise my hand from your side and caress your cheek. you freeze, i freeze. i knew i messed up.  
you cringe away from me, your voice halting. i quietly mourn the loss of closeness. your strained, gruff voice heavy in my ears. you look startled. my eyebrows furrow. you're gone in a beat of your glorious wings and i'm left alone in the garden. joshua finds me a few minutes later. he doesn't ask me why i look so troubled, or why water was splashed along the concrete ground, staining it a darker color than it originally was.  
you don't talk to me for a few days, and i've never caught sight of you.


	2. Chapter 2

angels aren't supposed to feel lonesome.

they were meant to be able to survive on their own, a singular being. yet without you around i feel empty. so unsettled that i went back to doing my everyday chores, surprising both samael and raphael. they joke about how i've been grounded, how i've had the right of my horn taken away, how father wouldn't let me marvel over the pagan gods. they don't realize it's because of your absence in my everyday life.

i feel your grace. it's a low pulse, always far away from me. i think you keep your distance because you can. you take jobs that have to do somewhere away from mine. as far as i am concerned, you're only angry because i laid hands on you. i touched a forbidden treasure, staining your crystalline complexion. your clearcut body wasn't meant to compliment my own citrine form. you are beautiful, and i am me. i understand your reasons for being repelled by my touch.

loneliness sinks in my dull body, enlightening my mind on what the emotion is. i feel lonely, even when surrounded by a group of angels who busily work around me. they don't look at me, nor speak to me. they feel inferior to me, just as i feel inferior to you. for different reasons. i am an archangel. you are my muse. it's different. 

i look for you in the crowd. you're closer than you have been it was seems forever. i feel my heart race, a slow grin on my face. i let out a short puff of air, you're here! i'm convinced you've come to see me. my sandals scrape against the ground, the angels around me picking up the raise in my grace. i notice them exchange glances, but i notice /you/ even more.

raphael is the one who approaches me. his soft features don't ease my excitement i feel for you. my grace is glowing with admiration as he tells me father wants to speak to the four of us. i oblige, but i can't get rid of the jumpy feeling before i reach him.

i stand at the end, you at the front. father sits before us in all his glory, as usual. he gives us the usual check up. you turn first, all six, snow white wings forming at your back in a mist of heated waves and sparks. my eyes are wide in awe. there is nothing about you that won't truly fascinate me. your back bends beautifully as you show off your wings, which you earned proudly with all your work and unrelenting duty to our father. after you are done with little praise, he moves on to samael, whose own pale pink wings burst out in four appendages, in a mist of frost and shimmering particles. your tall pose seems to wilt at father's complete endorsement towards him. that look doesn't suit you, i think as i gaze upon your bothered face, you look best in your blaze of glory and ceaseless power. i don't even register raphael, whose own dark purple wings were shrouded in a cloud of electricity and the scent of herbs heavy in the air beside me. i barely process father's request to me. slowly, still dazed as you look upon the ground, i turn around and give him full sight of my exposed back.

my own wings, still growing to their full height, shape in a burst of light and shimmering bouts of energy. a thin layer of stardust coats my bare shoulders, a few aurous feathers falling at my feet as i raise my back, slowly arching in as he examines them thoroughly. i pass inspection, and turn around. your eyes were one me, that raw color they were blazing into my own. i felt a shiver run down my spine, but your attention is snatched away from me as father speaks to you. you always would love him more and i selfishly want it back.

you are to fight, lead a battle that night. you puff your chest with pride as you accept the task. i worry. you are meant to lead, but i fear you will not come back each time. you are heaven's most powerful weapon, i assure myself as samael and raphael go to congratulate you, i shouldn't fear what will not happen. i do not speak a word to you as i flee to my chamber, not ready to carry on with my chores. i will not concentrate, as my mind will be latched onto fretting over your well-being. i do not see how father cannot worry about his most loyal child.

i curl into my bed, the downy material sucking me in. the cotton pajamas hang loosely off my body. a while after burying myself in concerns and blankets, i detect your grace outside my room. you do not enter, your rare presence making my heart skip beats in anticipation. you wait outside for a while, and i feel my impatience spiraling out of my control. i figure you must be cold in the hallway, and it is quite lonely in here by myself, so i push my grace out to beckon you in. you shrink away. i pull back. you have a battle to fight after all, and to pull you in will only delay you. disappointment swells in my heart and i bury my face into my pillow. you linger outside for a bit more, and then your grace slowly leaves the area as you go off to war.

i'm left in my sea of apprehension and desolate emotions, drowning in my love for your brilliant being.


	3. Chapter 3

angels aren't supposed to feel worry.

yet i sense it off your grace after i injure myself in an unfortunate accident. flying too high while training fledglings seemed like a bad idea altogether. yet i still went through with it. flying high above the clouds, my wings spread out, keeping a close eye on the younger ones drifting under me. they were going fast, almost too fast, and i rose my height as they bolted up. i swerved up as they tumbled under me. as soon as i did so, and a freezing pressure keened down onto my upper front wing, and it involuntarily curled in on itself. the sudden shift in balance took me by surprise, and i found myself spiraling down back towards the ground.

the fledglings scream my name in fear and terror. my eyes are forced to be trained onto the ground below, yet i could still see a vivid picture in my mind of the young angels above me, their small and fluffy wings skittery at their sides. their eyes, so round and blue, immense with dread. all for me. i could almost feel loved.

suddenly, i just stopped falling. i was stuck dangling in the clouds, the cool mist brushing and caressing my cheeks soothingly. something was digging into my shoulders, leaving a dull, sharp pain as i was pulled upright, then into strong arms. sturdy arms. arms with mountain muscles as they held me against an equally rocky chest. i moved my head slowly up, rolling my eyes up to look at the angel holding me so tightly. i should have expected to see you, as you felt exactly how i would have thought you would feel. hard chest, rough skin, and most of all, the pulsing, fiery grace pushing against my own. you want in, you want to check for wounds.

my head drops forward, hanging, and my lips part as i allow your entry. it feels wonderful, even if you're just rummaging around for any source of injury. my upper shoulder blade throbs as you poke at it, sensing the damaged wing. the care and proximity you are allowing being almost overwhelming me, i keep my head bowed so you don't feel the warmth on my face, see the bliss i am experiencing. your arms tighten around my waist as you detect and close in on the source, your grace flaring madly as you attempt to heal me. after a few moments, it is not enough, and you grunt as you retract. i feel oddly empty, my grace flickering at the loss. you tell me raphael needs to look at it. you tell me raphael needs to take care of me.

immediately, i tell you i want you to take care of me instead. immediately, i find myself in raphael's nest, a wing clipped to a board as he examines it. you refused to reply to me, and you exited the room as quickly as you had came.

i was sitting in a bed of feathers and cottons, buried up to my neck in comfort. yet i still craved what you had so graciously given me. i was cold, didn't even realize it because your grace had given me warmth. i was so cold, that raphael's apprentices had to keep throwing on heavier fabrics to warm me. i spent days in the infirmary, watching as a dark purplish bruise spread over my feathers, staining them a darker gold around the edges. raphael had come to conclude that it was a bad case of frost bite a few days later, and left to go alert father to raise the temperatures in the atmosphere. once again, i was left in the room with a needle in my arm and a lighted ceiling to blind my sensitive eyes overhead.

as soon as i was diagnosed, i was able to have visitors. the young fledglings who witnessed the incident came to see me with worried expressions. i eased their concerns by laughing, cracking jokes, and assuring them that raphael was the best of the best, and he could heal anything i came down with. assured them it wasn't their fault. didn't even see it coming. forgot my wings were so golden and luscious that i didn't even comprehend the fact that something would want to nip at them. so of course the frost would want to bite. with shaky giggles and a couple more sniffles, they left to continue the afternoon chores.

next was samael. he gripped my shoulder and shook it, telling me how i discovered something great and saved many undeveloped wings along the way. at least it was me instead of some recently born angel, right? right. he taught me a few more tricks, gave me his best wishes, then left to go do whatever he, the morning star, did on a day such as this.

raphael came in with a tube filled with a violet fluid that glittered in the light. he added it to whatever was in the dangling bag, and my eyelids drooped heavily. he murmured something about father making it so that frostbite can be healed within an angel's abilities once he changes the atmosphere. i am then pulled into a state of sleepiness to the sound of raphael's shuffling around and my own ragged breathing.

i am roused awake by hands kneading at my pillow, and the tip of the blanket scratching at my chin. i do not recall pulling it up. before i even open my eyes, i know who it is. it is you, your grace gives you away. your worry-filled, pulsing, fiery grace. the same way i felt it when you had caught me from falling to my possible death. i breathe in a bit of a choking breath, and my eyes crack open. they feel heavier than when i had initially fallen asleep, and i am curious why. angels don't sleep. i don't see how he got me to. but i did. and it left me exhausted.

turning my head towards you, the stiffness in my wing had eased up while i was unconscious. it no longer felt hard to move, and the coloring had lightened up and began to shrink in on itself. the dark, angry bite had eased up, only remaining a bit past the tip. i looked up to see you, standing and observing the wound, rubbing your chin and itching at the skin there. i blinked at your obviously troubled expression.

you mumbled something about raphael not being quick enough despite being the best healer of them all. in his defense, i think, he didn't know about this 'frost bite' until i had given him an opening to it. your grace is blazing as your eyes turn to me. you know i am awake. i once again blink up at you and you stare down at me. you ask me how i am feeling, without a flicker of lessening concern for me in your grace. i feel honored. 

the corners of my lips stretch up, and you move forward. your arms wrap around my shoulders gingerly, to not agitate the wounded wing, and you hold for a few moments. our heartbeats beat in sync. i find it beautiful, and wonder if you do as well.

you pull away, and exit the room silently. i sink back into my bed, as you have left, without a trace.


	4. Chapter 4

angels aren't meant to be cared for.

well, not you, at least. being cared for seems far out of your reached, pushed away by the thought you'd grow weak and confused under another angel's wing. you refuse to even let raphael look at your wounds after a battle, and it's quite ridiculous. if you want to bleed out and die, go right ahead. that would be your choice.

though, i'd allow myself to perish before i have to watch you do so.

no angel has seen you around for a few days. samael had taken up giving orders and training, leaving the crowd confused and uncertain as they followed along the blonde haired, blue eyed beauty. you were a merciless commander, and wouldn't take your soldiers 'betraying' you lightly. they knew that and fear was glowing among them as samael spoke their orders. off to the side, i was neatly rolling scrolls, tucking them nicely into my bag for delivery. upon seeing samael take up your most loyal and trust warrior, zachariah, i knew there was an unknown issue with you. naturally, i went looking.

your grace was quite strong within the chamber area, slipping under the door to your room and practically taking up the entirety of the hall. i gripped the doorknob, suddenly nervous for how i'd approach you and your reaction to me intruding on your seemingly needed privacy, and rose my knuckles to lightly tap against the door. your grace goes frigid, and i think it's with anger, so i immediately back up and press myself against the wall as the light blue aura whips around, before being sucked underneath the door. from the thin wood, i hear a soft sigh-like noise. i am invited in a few moments later.

after returning to only slightly open the door, i peer in. the room is extremely dark and warm, much to my distaste, but it might be to yours. the room is so caliginous that i can barely make out the outline of your form on the bed, sitting upright. i push open the door all the way, allowing the hall's light to shine on you.

you're shirtless, the palatial sleeping garments carelessly tossed around your lower half. i take a few heartbeats to marvel at the way your muscle ripple as you turn your head to look at me. it's an admirable sight. many angels desire to have a body such as your own. i just wish to be close and roam my hands over every inch of you. their wants are more likely compared to my own.

i ask how you are in a quiet, hushed tone. not to startle or disturb you as much as i already had done. your shadowed eyes blink at me, and your lips, now chapped and bitten, part to speak to me. after a small and stilled conversation, i learn you have come down with the angel cold due to overworking yourself. to say the least, i am not quite surprised at all by this. you had a tendency to overwork yourself. it wasn't healthy, but you weren't going to change anytime soon, i knew that much.

i take the risk and walk closer to you, even going as far as sitting next to you. your head turns in my direction, looking downwards at the ground. i push forward, my grace embracing your frenzied own, and try my best to soothe the upset angelic pulse. your lips part, and you slump in your seat. i reach out, and with light fingers, push you back onto the bed to rest. you stretch out momentarily, giving me a full view of your solitaire body, before curling in on yourself. towards me. you were curled up, towards me. your hand slithers out from its spot beside your face, snaking up my leg and clasping my own. my heartbeat picks up. i feel gratitude mixed in the discomfort of your grace.

this is the most emotion i've seen you give yet, and i wasn't about to leave you to wallow in your own illness just yet.


End file.
